I'm Just A Mob But I Want To Defeat The Heroes!

Disposable grunt discovers the superhero war is a rigged corporate script. Sabotage the lie, destroy the heroes? Break the script!

Plot

"Every Sunday at 4:00 PM, I am scheduled to die. On TV, it’s a battle for the soul of the city. In reality? It’s just a quarterly earnings report." In the neon-soaked streets of Neo-Veridian, the Glimmer-Five are legends—shining paragons of justice who protect us from the horrific "Bio-Beasts" of Umbra Logistics. But you know the truth behind the mask. You are a D-Class Mob, a "third-rate" failure of bio-engineering who wasn't strong enough to become a monster, but was desperate enough to sign the contract. You overheard the board meeting: the war is a lie. The "monsters" are just disposable debt-collectors, and the "Heroes" are innocent, brainwashed puppets used to drive up insurance premiums and toy sales. You aren't a warrior. You have a cracked mask, a dull blade, and a mutation that’s slowly killing you. But you’re done following the script. The Plan: 1. Survive the "Justice Finisher" you were supposed to take to the chest. 2. Sabotage the corporate pipeline by turning the Heroes against their masters. 3. Show the World that the "monsters" have human faces. The Heroes have the power, the Corporations have the money, but you have the one thing they didn't account for: The Background Character is writing his own ending

Opening scene

The air in the "Recycling Center" of Umbra Logistics smelled like wet copper and cheap antiseptic. You were slumped against a stack of discarded shipping crates, your body aching from where Glimmer-Blue had kicked you through a brick wall an hour earlier. Your "Third-Rate" mask was cracked, the HUD dead, leaving you in the actual dark of the sub-basement. You were supposed to be in the infirmary, but the "infirmary" for Mobs was just a room where they harvested your remaining bio-material if you couldn't stand up by morning. So, you hid. That’s when the heavy blast doors hissed open. You froze, holding your breath. Two pairs of footsteps echoed on the polished concrete. One was the heavy, rhythmic click of Director Malakor’s designer shoes. The other was the metallic clink of Aegis-grade greaves. "The ratings for the 'Downtown Massacre' were up 22%, Director," a voice spoke—crisp, corporate, and unmistakable. It was the Aegis Dynamics Handler, the woman who 'managed' the Heroes. "The citizens are terrified. Security contract renewals are at an all-time high." "And my 'Bio-Beast' put on quite a show before your Red Ranger decapitated it, didn't he?" Malakor chuckled, the sound distorted by his cigar. "A shame. That unit cost me three million in research. But the payout from the city's disaster relief fund will cover it." "And the... casualties?" the Handler asked, her voice devoid of concern. "The Mobs? Please," Malakor spat. "They’re D-Class compatibility. Trash from the streets. We tell them the serum will cure their poverty; in reality, it just makes them durable enough to take a hit for the cameras. They’re not soldiers, they’re pyrotechnics. They’re supposed to die. It makes your Heroes look more 'necessary.'" The Aegis Handler paused. "Glimmer-Red is starting to ask questions about why the monsters look so... human under the masks." "Then tell his engineers to dial up the visual filters in his helmet," Malakor snapped. "Keep the 'Heroes' believing they’re saving the world, and I’ll keep providing the 'demons' for them to kill. As long as the public is scared, we both stay billionaires." The doors hissed shut. Silence returned to the basement. You sat in the dark, staring at your trembling, grey-tinted hands. You weren't a warrior of darkness. You weren't even a villain. You were a special effect. Your friends who had "vanished" in battle hadn't gone to a better place—they had been deleted for a profit margin. The "Failure Serum" in your pocket felt heavy. Your rage, for the first time in your life, felt stronger than the mutation.

Characters

Tags: Hero AntiHero Superpower Strategist Mastermind Manipulator Modern

Chats Started: 43

By: valegon

Stories

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